


Just close your eyes [Soon we'll be home]

by Living_Fast



Series: The War Crimes [6]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Babyblade, Boys Being Boys, Child Neglect, Children, Dadza, Does that count in this situation?, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fix phils tag please, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, He actually legally adopted Tommy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am a child, I don't know how any of this works, I mean, I mean this series already said fuck canon so, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It's Philza, Not Beta Read, Past Child Abuse, Phil didn't really gain his children through legal means, Phil is good Dad, Protectiveness, READ THE OTHER PARTS PLEASE, Showers, Techno didn't have a fun time, Technoblade angst, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), That's another story for another day, The Captain is Tubbo's dad, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, be kind, because I'm a Hardcore Technoblade Fan so, besides Tommy, but when does anything I write not have angst in it, comfort items, it starts off angsty, my bois, no beta we die like wilbur soot, please, that I probably won't write, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Fast/pseuds/Living_Fast
Summary: His voice was wobbly and full of tears; Phil rumbled deep in his chest, and scooped the small boy to his chest, ignoring the mud that was now clinging to his own clothes. Ignoring the way he seemed so light, all bones; even with the past two months, and the entire house's attempts to get some meat back on his bones. Or perhaps just to get some meat on his bones, Phil nuzzles muddy pink hair, cooing softly.The Pup clung to his shirt, and Phil’s heart ached, setting on a slow walk back to the house.
Relationships: Jordan Maron & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: The War Crimes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000203
Comments: 13
Kudos: 341





	Just close your eyes [Soon we'll be home]

**Author's Note:**

> *Slams head into table repetitively*  
> I'm going to off myself if writer's block doesn't vanish within the next 24 hours. (This is a joke, please don't tell my mother)  
> I spat this bitch out in like 3 days all collectively written at like 3 to 4 am because the big fic I'm working on has effectively cut off my head and shoved it into a bucket.  
> Plus I wanted to write more for this because I love this Au I word vomited out a while back, and I just wanted more of it, for my own personal gains. 
> 
> IMPORTANT: THIS IS NOT A STANDALONE, AND PERHAPS CANNOT BE READ AS SUCH.  
> IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE REST OF THE SERIES I IMPLORE YOU TO DO SO. MUCH OF THIS WON'T MAKE ANY DAMN SENSE, SO PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL HOLY THINGS READ THE OTHER 5 PARTS. 
> 
> (Hey I actually like this Fic, unlike all the other ones where I viciously hate them.)

Phil rubbed at his face, his wings twitching smacking against the fence post. Tommy and Tubbo’s laughter floated through the house, his ears giving the slightest movements to catch each sound. He watched the path that led to the lake, the sun was slowly dipping down in the sky. Night ready to cast its shadows across the lands for several hours. 

The dragon rumbled deep in his chest, the darker it became the more his mind was set on edge. Trust in his eldest son to bring back the newest addition to the house on time was perhaps not a grand idea, 14 and 9(or 10? The boy did not know) Phil puffed air out of his nose. Feeling the heat of his hot breath on the inside of his nose and across the top of his bottom lip. 

He turned back into the house at the sound of bare feet on wooden floors, Tubbo and Tommy stood carefully around the side of the doorframe. Tommy was under a strict rule of not leaving the house after the first sign on Dark, and that would stay that way. Tubbo was to follow the same rule- Jordan had agreed on it when the boys first started hanging out this late. “Can Tubbo stay the night Dad?” 

Phil cast another look at the path to the pond and smiled fondly at the two 7-year-olds, “Of course he can, Your Dad caught up with work.” Tubbo’s green eyes lit up, and Tommy let out a whoop. The smaller of the two, yet the older; mumbled out a small yeah. And Phil ached a little bit. Tommy grabbed at Phil’s Wing; not quite outside the borders of the house; but starting to edge on it. 

_ Normally a sign he wanted to be picked up.  _

He pushed softly at his son, and grinned wider ignoring the worry tugging at his mind for just a second; at the way, the boys giggled as they crashed into each other. Stumbling away from the door and Phil’s wings. “Has Wilbur come back?” Tubbo piped a “Techno” Where Tommy missed it. He held on tight to a grimace, his youngest while not completely against having the other in the house- it was clear in Phil’s mind that sometimes Wilbur and Tommy thought Techno would be leaving at any time. 

So instead of lightly scolding his youngest, he makes a grand motion before he’s scooping up both Tubbo and Tommy, blowing against the blond’s cheek and digging his fingers lightly into Tubbo’s sides. Walking out to stand at the edge of the porch, the boy’s twin giggles floating into the air, interrupting the crackle of the fire; and the worry clutching at his heart. 

His wings clutch the boys closer, and he glares at the path the darker the sky gets. He knows it’s rather early and it’s only growing darker because of the impending Winter, but the nightcrawlers do not care for what time the sky goes dark, only that it does. 

He presses his cheek against Tubbo’s head as the soon to be 8-year-old grabs at the horn hidden beneath his hair. Tommy just runs his fingers along the edge of Phil’s wing and giggles every time it twitches. The boy was babbling on about something that hardly made any sense but Phil was far used to it by now. “Sense Wilbur and Techno seem to want to spend the night at the pond, what do the two of you want for Dinner?” Tommy instantly demands pasta and Tubbo’s face scrunches up in concentration before he also demands Pasta. 

Phil hums lightly; setting the two down and they scramble inside without being asked. He smiles lightly and glances around at the path before sighing. “How about the two of you figure out  _ what kind of pasta,  _ while I got to retrieve the two runaways.” 

Tubbo nods and wanders farther into the house. Tommy stares up at him for a long time, and his hands fidget. “I’ll be right back baby. The pond is a 5-minute walk, there and back; very quick.” The boy’s blue eyes flutter between him and the door behind him before he nods. “Plus you’ve got Tubbo, and nothing bad can happen if Tubbo’s here.” 

Tommy’s face turns as confident as a Seven-year-olds can before he’s darting off into the house with a shout of “Tubs!”, Phil grabs the lantern off the side of the porch and heads off down the path. 

Halfway there he begins to realize the problem as Wilbur’s voice is starting to break through the settling of the night, and Techno’s voice makes no response.  _ Not that it does often to anyone who isn’t Phil, but Wilbur can normally coax a few words from the boy.  _ He spots the two standing in the middle of the path, Wilbur’s jumper covered in mud, and Techno’s hair matted and the boy’s own (much thicker) jumper coated in the same substance. 

Techno’s hooves are firmly planted, and his dark blue eyes are full of panic. It's visible from where Phil is at the top of the hill. He sighs very softly and walks down. “Techno! Come on, it’s just a little farther! I get muddy all the time and Dad Doesn’t  _ care.  _ He probably expected us to get muddy.” Techno just shook his head rapidly.

Phil aches, and he hates this boy's mother, basic things children should do and explore were never an option for him. Or if they were they were wrong for the boy to do. 

Tucking his wings close to his back, and calling out softly. “ _ Boys.”  _ Wilbur’s head whips around instantly, and Techno’s face drains of color. Brown eyes are bright, if not a little guilty- “Hi Dad, uh, sorry?” 

Puffing air softly from his nose, and reaching over to gently take a terrified Techno’s hands from the teenager's grasp. “It’s alright, I can see the problem now. Why don’t you run ahead, take a shower and go make sure Tommy and Tubbo haven’t tried to make dinner themselves.” Wilbur nods, glancing at Techno before he pressed a hand to the other boy's shoulder; and then takes off down the path at a run. 

Phil turns his attention to Techno, who was wide-eyed and on the verge of tears it seemed. “I’m not mad you and Wilbur got Muddy Tech,” the boy shook his head, matted pink curls flying wildly around his face. Flinging wet and dry mud everywhere. “I’m not even mad you two were going to be late.” 

He spreads his wings slightly, dropping down onto his knees before the boy. Who just stared up at him with wide terrified eyes. “Let’s go back to the house- get you a bath, and then help Wilbur with Dinner. Alright? I know you’ve gotta be hungry Pup.” 

Techno swallowed so thickly that Phil watched his throat move and his jaw clench. He waits, it’s a thing he’s learned comes to Techno, wait for the boy. The darkening sky makes his skin stand on edge. A batch of tears spill down the boy's pale cheeks, his ears pinned to the side of his head. “Okay.” 

His voice was wobbly and full of tears; Phil rumbled deep in his chest, and scooped the small boy to his chest, ignoring the mud that was now clinging to his own clothes. Ignoring the way he seemed so light, all bones; even with the past two months, and the entire house's attempts to get some meat back on his bones. Or perhaps just to get some meat on his bones, Phil nuzzles muddy pink hair, cooing softly. 

The Pup clung to his shirt, and Phil’s heart ached, setting on a slow walk back to the house. 

\---

Locking the door with one hand, and listening to the sounds of the three boys in the house chattering away in the kitchen. Techno curled closer to his chest, Phil mumbled a small word of comfort. Staring down at his feet; sighing quietly to himself when he realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his boots like this. 

Passing through the kitchen, and smiling at Wilbur who was showing Tubbo (who was sitting on the counter) how to stir the pasta so it wouldn’t stick to the pan. His curls still damp a few sticking to his forehead. Techno shifted and pressed his  _ rather cold  _ nose against Phil’s neck. 

Tommy was sitting at the bar, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth; reading something out of a cookbook. Wilbur turned to look at Phil, a smile on the 14yearold's face, hands absently Turning the page for Tommy a few times. 

“We’ve got dinner covered!” The boys' brown eyes glanced at Techno’s tiny form curled as far into Phil’s chest as possible. “Bath time?” The Dragon in him rumbled contently, gods above did he love his sons. 

He nods softly, rubbing at the Pups back, “Thank you. We’ll be back down in a little bit.” 

Heading upstairs and into the bathroom, he carefully places Techno on the toilet after dropping the lid. The boy clutched at his legs, and Phil looked at the state of the boy's hair. 

He pulls the shower curtain closed and reaches in turning the shower on instead of the tub faucet. He pulls his shirt off and then goes about removing his boots. Shucking his pants off and leaving his underwear on. 

Techno watches him over his knees; blue eyes peering through muddy pink hair. 

The chill of the air made him shiver his wings twitching involuntary, even with the dragon parts of him making him warmer than he should be; it was still  _ cold.  _ The water was slowly warming the small room. 

He crouched in front of Techno who lifted shaking arms up, pulling the boy's thick Blue sweater over his head; and then unbuttoning the Pups pants for him. 

Letting Techno finish getting his clothes off; Phil tested the water. It was warm, and he turned back to Tech, who was now standing with his dirty sweater in his hands. The mud on his face was now mixed with a mess of tears, and Phil grabbed a rag off the counter. Gets it wet under the spray of water. He slides down to his knees, gently takes the sweater from his hands, and goes about cleaning off his face softly. 

Techno’s nose scrunches up; looking all so much like a little piglet as he does. He whines lowly, trying to lean away. “ _ Tech.”  _ his voice is gentle, and the boy’s attempts to get away are frozen at the sound of his name. He lays the rag down and picks the boy up with little effort. 

Tiny arms wound around his neck, and his legs hand uselessly; Phil hooks his arm under his butt and steps into the shower. His back to the spray, his hair soaking almost instantly; Techno shielding into his chest, Phil mumbled out a string of curses. 

His wings relaxing, and Techno whined softly. 

“Yeah, I know Pup. Let’s wash your hair and then we can just take a regular bath.” He carefully introduces Techno to the water and ignores the boy's hooves digging into his hip. He cups a hand over his eyes, and watches as Mud splatters and slides off the floor of his tub. 

Techno’s hands curled around his wrist, and Phil just rumbled again. “Just a few more seconds, almost done Pup.” 

When the bottom of the tub was clear, and Techno’s hair was mud and dirt free, Phil pulled him out of the spray and set him carefully at the bottom of the tub. Tiny hands curled around the edge of a wing as Phil reached and grabbed the scentless baby shampoo of the edge of the tub. Wetting his hand and then partially filling his palm with the rather cold substance for the hot water. 

He rubbed at Techno’s ear and then started rubbing the clear shampoo into pink locks. Techno let out the soft rumbly noise he always made when someone messed with his hair, leaning into his hands. Scratching softly at the small Pup’s scalp, using his wings to shield him from most of the water. 

Once he was satisfied with the amount of shampoo in the boy’s hair; he nabbed the green cup sitting next to the shampoo bottle. He turned back to the pup; filling the cup with water from the showerhead; Techno’s cheek was pressed against his hip; one hand curled around Phil’s free hand that was placed on his small head, and the one was still gripping his wing. Sleepy blue eyes peered up at him. 

Gently rinsing the Piglin Pup’s hair, and then lathering a small amount of conditioner into the ends, and letting it sit as he went about softly scrubbing the rest of the mud off him. Techno started to fight his hands the more they stood there. “I know, just a little longer.” 

Techno swatted at one of his hands, “ _ Sa-id th-that. _ ” Phil snorted softly; the tone was one of a grumpy pup who didn’t take a nap with Tommy earlier. Too busy chasing after Wilbur. 

Naps had become a big thing in the house, Techno wasn’t used to running around as much as Phil’s boys were. From what Phil had gathered over the past 2 months was that the boy’s mother kept him basically locked in a room during the day and let him out at night. Which made it almost impossible at the start to get him on a sleeping schedule. 

Phil ran some of Wilbur’s shampoo through his hair, still waiting on rinsing the conditioner out of the boy’s long and curly pink hair. Shaking some water out of his short hair, and rubbing at Techno’s ear again when the boy whined again. 

Rinsing the Conditioner out, Phil turned the water off. Pushing the curtain open and reaching around for a towel. Pushing Wilbur’s still damp yellow towel out of the way, and grabbed Techno’s baby blue one; wrapping the pup snuggly and lifting him up placing him carefully on the toilet seat again. Pressing a kiss to still soaking wet hair. Phil shucked off his wet underwear and yanked an extra towel out of the cabinet. Drying himself off sufficiently and then wrapped it around his waist. 

Grabbing the soft  _ clean  _ Shirt sitting under the sink and carefully began the process of taking care of Techno’s mass of curls. 

\---

Phil hefted Techno upon his hip; Tubbo and Tommy’s bright, yet tired laughter echoing up the stairs. Techno curled against his side half asleep; fidgeting with Phil’s necklace. (Which was only put there because Techno liked fidgeting with things, and he knew it helped calm him down.) Wilbur smiled from where he was making Tubbo and Tommy plates of what seemed to be plain pasta with parmesan. Phil laughed. 

“I’m surprised the boys didn’t demand mac and Cheese… Again.” Tommy makes a face and runs up to grab at a Wing. Tubbo had stolen a piece of bread, and was making quick work of shoving the entire piece in his mouth. Phil reached over still holding Techno carefully, and grabbed it out of Tubbo’s mouth, slicing it in half with the knife Wilbur left out of the two 7-year-olds' reach and handed the two pieces back to him. 

Tubbo let out an excited Thank you and shoved one piece in his mouth. “I wanted Mac and Cheese, but Tubbo wanted Pasta with Alf- alph-” Tubbo giggled around a piece of his bread. “Alfredo! Alfredo sauce. Wilbur just wanted Plain Pasta. Which is okay I guess, Then Wilbs mentioned I-I could just put cheese on some pasta.” Phil raised an eyebrow at his oldest, amusement heavy in his expression, Brown eyes looked mildly smug as he shrugged. “Which is not the same! And I told him such!” 

Techno shifted, reaching out for the small piece of bread Tubbo reached up to offer him. Phil shifted downwards so he could grab it, and smiled softly as the boy started to basically naw on the edge. “I’ll make you mac and cheese for lunch  _ tomorrow _ .” Tommy nodded seemingly placated at the small truce and took the plate of Pasta from Wilbur. Tubbo basically bounced in place as he was handed him. 

“Dad makes homemade noodles if we have pasta, which is almost never late.” The boy's face grows slightly dejected, sadness fills Phil, Jordan had been extremely busy after Tubbo’s mother walked out on them a few months ago. Both with the battle for custody and with the job that was far more dangerous than it should be. Phil will never be happier that he’s retired here to take care of his wild children and just plant crops. 

He tugs Tubbo into a one-sided hug after the brown-haired boy places his plate down, Phil knows desperately that not everyone has the same luxury.

Wilbur makes another plate, and then his own. The 14-year-old glanced up at him, the lights shining off his glasses. “Hey Tech, do you want Oil and Garlic on your’s?” Phil glanced down at the Pup, who had definitely enjoyed that far more than the other types of sauces they had made. Techno made a loud greedy noise, nodded vigorously. 

It was becoming very clear to Phil that Wilbur decided to go all out on this, seeing as he already had Techno’s sauce made, and plated, clearly slipped into the furnace with a few, hot, but dying coals. Phil set Techno on the barstool and took the warm plate from his son’s hands. The piglin squealed softly, his exhaustion clearly forgotten in the wake of his favorite food. 

Phil before Wilbur can offer him a plate, tugs his eldest son into a hug; burying his nose in dark hair, and clings a bit harder to the taller boy than he had in a long time. “Thank you Wils, you didn’t have to do that.” Wilbur clings back just as hard, head pressed against Phil’s collarbone. God, when did he get so tall? 

Wilbur’s still damp hair is cold against his skin, but Phil can’t bring himself to move. “I upset him earlier, Sometimes I forget he’s fragile and that’s my fault. I shouldn't have started a mud fight.” Phil pulls back a little, brushing his son's hair from his eyes.

Brown eyes are guilty, and staring more over his shoulder then at him. “He’s so strong and feels older than me sometimes. But as soon as I said we needed to go back. He basically melted Dad, I was so  _ scared,  _ that he’d runoff, and you’d be upset, and- and- '' Phil rumbled softly, curling his wings around his hatchling. He runs his fingers through his hair, ignoring Techno eating, and Tubbo and Tommy’s unrelenting chatter. 

His focus purely on his oldest, “I wouldn’t have been  _ mad  _ Wilbur, I would never; if Techno had taken off; which he has done before. He likes to come back, far more skittish than when he left. But he comes back Hatchlin’. And we just learn to avoid those things.” He runs his fingers through his boy's hair. “It wouldn't have been your fault. I think he was more afraid of the bath than my anger.” 

Wilbur snorts softly, scrubbing at the tears on his cheeks. “Yeah.” 

Phil pulls away, grabs a plate; pools noodles on the ceramic, and passes it to Wilbur. Who grinned watery at him and took it. “Thank you, Dad.” Phil smiles at him. 

Grabbing a few slices of bread and distributing them to Tommy and Tubbo. Handing a piece off to Techno who mumbled out his shuttered  _ Thanks  _ softly. Wilbur sat at the bar with Techno, legs curled under him, with two glasses of milk. 

Phil gets Apple juice for Tubbo and Water for Tommy before making himself a plate and sitting with the two younger boys. Glancing softly at Wilbur talking animatedly at a silent but wide-eyed Techno. 

\--- 

Tommy and Tubbo are tucked into Tommy’s bed together at 9:37, with a promise of Waffles from breakfast. Wilbur demands a short movie before his own “bedtime” at 11:30. He picks out Lady and the Tramp; and curls up on the couch. 

Phil stands in the middle of Techno’s room and holds the Small boy. Techno had come to recognize bedtime as a terrible time because he was by himself for several hours, even to just sleep. While he dealt with this with Wilbur when he was much smaller after his mother left him at the market. 

Techno’s was almost  _ Worse,  _ Techno didn’t like being left alone for long periods of time, in any shape or form. While Phil had allowed it for the first few nights, he knew it was time to start letting him sleep in his one bed, or the separation anxiety was going to take hold and they would take much longer to get there. 

Tommy was slowly coming out on his own with the help of Tubbo and Wilbur. But he had always gone to sleep by himself easily. Clingy but never one for cuddles,  _ unless  _ your name just  _ happened  _ to be Tubbo. 

Techno just wanted someone there, no matter who it was; so Phil stood in the middle of his room for the time being holding the boy and watching as dark blue eyes blinked sluggishly. As tiny hands clutched at a cat plush tighter.

Phil rumbled very softly in his chest, rocking slightly. Techno would startle awake at some movement’s eyes wide. Phil would coo softly, and rub his nose into the pup’s hair. “Right here Pups.” 

\---

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, and pressing his palms flat against his skull. He climbed down the stairs and searched for Wilbur’s form. His shoulders relaxing and his wings dragging the ground at the sight of his oldest son passed out of the couch, clearly the day’s events catching up to even him. 

Pulling the remote from his hands, and turning the thing off; he softly tapped his shoulder. Brown eyes peered at him, and he grumbled slightly. “Come on Wil, bed.” 

The teen rolled off the couch and grumbled again- an unconscious imitation of Phil’s own sleepy grumbles. Ones that reside in his chest, and ache. One that makes his boys melt, one that makes Phil’s head spin. Phil rumbled out his own, pushing his son towards the stairs with his own wing. 

“Night Dad, I love you.” 

Phil smiled, brushing his hair out of his face; “Good night Wilbur. Love you too.” 

\---

He crawled out of bed long before the sun finished rising; shoving his hair out of his face; and rubbing at his jaw. His ears gave the smallest of twitches for the sounds of any of the boys in the house's movement. 

Checking the clock on the wall, rising slowly to his feet; blinking the last of sleep out of his eyes. Opening his door with a softly creak, and heading over to set out coffee grounds, as well as start setting up for waffles. 

Phil’s wings stretch out as he moves through the kitchen before he’s grabbing his coat and pulling on a pair of leather boots. He opened the back door, shutting it behind him carefully; the cold air hit his face and the wind shoved at the edges of his coat. He rolls his shoulders back and curls his wings tight around himself. 

Tending carefully to the chickens, gathering eggs, and setting them just outside the fence. He moves into the barn and runs his fingers over the rather large tabby cat sitting outside the doors waiting for him. The old cat purred under his fingers, and Phil pulled away. Pouring a bowl of cat food, and moving on to check on the few cows that stayed in the barn. 

A bucket or two of milk later, Phil rubbed at the face of a younger cow. And headed back up to the house, grabbing the basket of eggs on his way up. 

The sun had peaked over the horizon already, the first spreads of Day sunk into the lands. The few mobs that took shelter from the light of Phi’s small farm in the woods set about the screaming that would wake up Wilbur. 

Phil pushed open the door with his wing and placed the new batch of eggs on the counter. Setting the two buckets of milk next to the containers of leftover pasta from last night. Shuffling around to grab the cookbook and the waffle iron, A grumble of “Morning Dad.” Reached his ears as Wilbur came climbing down the stairs, a pink sweater hanging off his frame red beanie in place. His jeans were replaced with a pair of blue sleep pants. 

“Good Morning Wilbur!” He smiled at the half-hearted glare that he got in face of his rather chipper tone. Pressing a cup of coffee into his son’s hands. There is no "Thanks" and Phil snorts softly at him. Wilbur all but collapses into a chair at the bar, cradling the mug in his hands like it's precious. 

The door is knocked on twice before Tubbo and Tommy come crawling downstairs with sleepy demands of food, Phil smiles mutely as Jordan pushes the door open. The Captain looks exhausted, and Phil's wings give a twitch. 

Twisting around in the small space as Wilbur gives a half-hearted wave as the man crosses the threshold. Hair falling in his face, and his shirt partially untucked. Phil hands him a cup of coffee and adds a small amount of sugar into it. The other smiles sadly at him, and mumbles out his thanks. 

He slides into a chair next to Wilbur, and Wilbur hardly glances at him. Phil snorts; ears twitching as twin pairs of feet come stumbling down the stairs. Phil starts making waffles with practiced motions, but he glances up the second Tubbo notices his father sitting at the counter.    


“Dad!” The streak of brown hair and Jordan slipping down from his seat at the counter to gather his son up in his arms. “Hey  _ Baby Bee. _ ” Phil pulls his eyes away and turns to Tommy who looks slightly dejected at the sight. “Toms.” 

Blue eyes peer at him from under blond fringe. “Hot Chocolate or milk?” The boy looks delighted at the distraction even if he doesn’t know it was one quite yet. Tommy bounces over to him, with a grin, “Can I have Orange Juice?” 

Phil laughs “Of course baby.” He opens the cold chest and pulls out the jug which is running low. He stares at it for a long moment, before he grabs a cup, pouring a small amount. He turns for another because Tubbo was probably the one who actually wanted Orange Juice. He sets the green one in front of where Jordan had pulled his small son into his lap, 

Tubbo lets out a giggle of thanks and grabs the cup instantly. Phil pours Tommy a second one, handing it off to Wilbur who was looking significantly more awake than he did minutes before, the Brunette grumbles but hands the cup off to Tommy. Who after a moment's hesitation chirps out a “Thank you Wilbs!” And darts off to sit on the other side of Jordan and Tubbo. 

Phil pulls out the first waffle, and plates it, shoving it into the warmer in the Furnace. Starting the next one, He bites his lip and turns towards the stairs. “Wil?” brown eyes focus on him from where his eldest was reaching into the fridge to grab a piece of fruit. “Did you know if Techno is awake yet?” 

The other shakes his head and sets his newly retrieved apple on the counter. “I can go get him?” 

His wings roll and Phil smiles at his son, “Please.” 

The rather tall boy heads upstairs and Phil turns back to the group sitting at his counter. He looks at Son and Father, and at his own Son. Chattering brightly to Tubbo. “Who wants eggs?” 

\--- 

Techno was half asleep in Wilbur’s grip when he brought him down, Wilbur wasn’t quite tall enough to carry him; it was clear he was supporting most of his little brother’s weight. Phil handed a plate to Tommy, Waffle, and cut up Banana. Slight syrup but not a lot because surprisingly enough the boy didn’t like it all that much. 

The Dragon in him coos slightly at the sight of the pink-haired boy, There was his last Baby, there was his final Hatchling. Who blinked at him before basically stumbling across the kitchen to grab Phil’s pant leg, and press his tiny body against his side. 

“Morning Tech.” 

A small grumble, that was borderline an oink; was his response. Phil rolled his eyes fondly and handed the boy a piece of fruit. There was no hesitation when he shoved the piece in his mouth. 

Jordan’s chatter to Tubbo, mostly Phil; about his day of work- had fallen quiet at the sight of the boy pressed against Phil’s side. “I’d forgotten the last time I was here, you only had two little ones.” Tommy huffed; turning his nose up and Phil outright laughed. “Yeah, Jordan this is Techno. Who hasn’t realized you are in the house yet or we wouldn’t be standing here as peacefully as we are.” There was a dark look that crossed the old warrior's face; before it vanished. If one wasn’t looking for it, it would have been missed. 

Dragging a soft sigh from his lips Phil curls a wing tight around his son, and goes back to passing out plates. Moving slowly as to not disturb the child clinging to his leg.

For now, it was soft and quiet. 

Soon enough Jordan would be noticed, and Techno would panic, or perhaps be alright. He took to Tubbo quite well the first time.

And soon enough Tubbo would go home, and Tommy would sulk for at least an hour before dragging Wilbur into sometimes rather chaotic, the two chores would take forever to get finished. But they would. 

And soon enough Techno would be spending several hours tucked into Phil’s lap in an attempt to go over a few lesions on words. Before Tommy spilled out that it was stupid he was taking up  _ all  _ of Tech’s time, and it was their turn. 

But for Now; Phil let the chatter of the rather slow morning wash over him, and rubbed softly at Techno’s hair. Handing off a new mug of Coffee to a more alive looking Captain. And dumping the Apple back into Wilbur’s hands with a demand to go feed the boys sheep. 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy reading comments even if I don't respond, I Love feedback and kudos! 
> 
> I hope you like this one, as I do very much. It's become a comfort over the past few days.


End file.
